


In Their Eyes

by greekphilosophress



Category: The Iliad - Homer, The Odyssey - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gay, M/M, Post-Canon, achilles has the self preservation of a four year old, agamemnon is a douche, hes too smart for this, m/m - Freeform, odysseus is a lil shit, patrochilles - Freeform, patroclus is a bean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekphilosophress/pseuds/greekphilosophress
Summary: The story of Patroclus and Achilles, through some of the background characters' eyes.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus, Helen/Paris (Greek and Roman Mythology), Odysseus/Penelope, Odysseus/Penelope (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Super excited for this fic! Give some recs for chapters please?

Odysseus didn't want to go to the land of the dead, but the gods weren't in the mood to be kind. When his crew descended into Erebos, it was clear in the way that the acrid air seemed to push at their skin, the wind to dry out their tongues and eyes, the sharp stones to cut through thin sandals, that they weren't welcome.

 _Well_ , thought Odysseus, _It isn't like I've been welcome anywhere in a long time._

They dig the trench, kill the ram and ewe, poor the thick, metallic blood into the hole. As his crew, those tough men, cower in a group behind him, he orders,

"Do not let anyone but the Prophet drink!"

Wearily, they draw swords and fan out, barring the fast forming shades from drinking. The wind howls, or is it the spirits? For their faces without mouths are trying to talk, but their brains are gone and they keep straining their jaws, as if words might burst forth. Then comes the Prophet, Terisias, and tells him, oh how he tells him, of the way he must go, the path he must take, the lives surely to be lost. And as he fades away, a rogue spirit breaks away from the men and hurls itself into the blood filled pit. When it looks up, It is his mother, and after they talk, she strides away as well.

And more. Tyro. Antiope. Alcmene. Epicaste, Oedipus' mother. Chloris. Leda. Iphimedeia. Phaedra and Procris, and Ariadne, that poor child. But more still. Clymene. Maera. Eriphyle. Arete. Echeneus. Alcinous. 

And then, Agamemnon. He looks up and sneers, dark beard and hooked nose as unpleasant as ever.

"That damned Clytemnestra took my life, can you believe? Took a lover and slaughtered me in my tub like an ox. The indignity!"

So Odysseus replies," How... terrible." Agamemnon chuckles." And that is why you shouldn't trust a woman, my boy. As soon as you tell her the whole truth, she is ready with the axe. Not that you'll be murdered by your wife, of course." There is a gleam like hunger in his eyes. And so Odysseus tells him news of his son and kingdom, and they part ways.

And then... Achilles. He... well, Odysseus cannot tell immediately if he is alone or not. And despite himself, Odysseus remembers how they had sailed off without memorializing Patroclus. How he had compared Patroclus to his wife... Ha. But the blurry figure at Achilles side solidifies and... Patroclus. By his Prince's side, as always. He feels relief deep in his bones. He does not think to wonder at how he came to be there, but those wonderings will come later.

"Odysseus, how is it you're still in places you shouldn't be?" Achilles calls, and Odysseus can't help but feel shocked at the transformation from the last time they had been in each others presence. Achilles hair is bright and clean, his chiton fresh, feet smooth and youthful. He smiles. So does Patroclus.

"Ah, old friends, I have come to seek the prophecies of Terisias, hopeful he would tell me how I could get back to Ithaca. But you, Achilles, are already the stuff of legend and myth. Trust me, men a hundred years into the future will still speak your name. Do not grieve at death, for you have gotten what you longed for. Eternal glory."

But he is cut off by a seemingly livid Achilles, who starts forward bur is stopped by a hand on the shoulder from Patroclus." Don't speak like that to me! Do you know, I would rather slave away under the most cruel mortal on the earth, fade away until my name is never spoken again, just to have escaped what my fate has become! I should have swallowed my damned pride and lived a long life and live happily with the m- with the _people_ I love!

But, if you could, tell me about that snake Pyrrhus. Patroclus has told me about what happened with our grave, but I wish to know what after that." So Odysseus told him of his sons untimely (though not uncelebrated) death, and he seems viciously pleased.

And before they stride away, Patroclus makes eye contact with him. His eyes speak for him, even though he mouths the words.

_Thank you. I will never forget._

And they left, and when Achilles thought Odysseus couldn't see, he loops and arm around Patroclus' waist, and kisses him as they walk away. But Odysseus is not in the habit of not seeing things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hector finds Patroclus in the Underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hee Hee

Hector does not know why he is here, approaching the man. Well, not the man, he knows his name. Patroclus. Honor of the father, and he supposes that's just as well, he knows that any father should be proud to have a son of such courage.

He is sitting on a grassy knoll, staring into the distance. Waiting for Achilles, probably. Even Hector, who makes it his business to avoid Achilles Pelides as much as possible, knows how he spends his days, meeting new shades, who hunger to meet the famous Achilles. A hundred years it has been since they both died, and yet his name is still in the mouths of men.

Hector approaches the man whose life he took, all that time ago. They were both in Elysium, which had been awkward in the beginning. Hector does not think it likely Achilles will ever forgive him for killing his beloved companion. _Beloved_. They had been denying the rumors about the nature of their relationship for so long, it came as second nature.

His feet light, he is not of flesh and bone any longer, so he makes no sound, tread toward the man sitting.

"Greetings." Patroclus jumps but does not turn.

"Hector."

"That is what I am called. I only wish to talk, do not think I mean you ill." Hector sits beside him, stretching his feet out. It's not like he could do him any ill anyway, he has no means which to cause harm. And Patroclus has no body to be harmed. 

"I suppose I wanted to... Apologize. I... You must think poorly of me, for the whole... killing business. I just wanted to make this wrong right. I know how you and Achilles are close, so I do not mean to cause you offense, but I truly believed you were him."

Patroclus makes a funny noise, in the back of his throat." You do not have to explain-"

"But I want to. I must have you know. I... I've always disliked war. The bloody business is not for me. I did it to save face, and I know it a sorry excuse, for the minds of men only last so long, but the crown prince cannot be marked a coward. For all my fathers' kindness and piety, he would have thrown me out before being disgraced. I have apologized to all of the men I killed, except for you. I do not think that Achilles would be so gracious as to allow me to speak with you. I know he harbors a deep hatred for me, which I cannot truly blame him for."

Patroclus nods. "You most certainly do not have to explain the horrible pressures of war and reputation to me, of all people. After all, me and Achilles were sixteen when we sailed for Troy, all because of glory and war. War and glory. The two, barely anything further apart, yet as closely connected."

Hector stands, and nods." Well, my time here is done. I hope that you will... I don't expect you to forgive your murderer, but at least know that I have tried."

At those words, Patroclus smiles." A friend once said something like that. I can definitely say your effort has not been in vain."

And so Hector, Breaker of Horses, Crown Prince of Troy, walks away from Patroclus. A man. As all of them used to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briseis is terrified of her new captors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooooooo boy

Briseis stood on the dais, like a bone ready to be gnawed on by wild dogs. They had taken her from her home, killed her father and brothers, put her on display like a choice cut of meat. She doesn't want to know what happens next. 

But she does.

The men of Greece surround her and jostle for a spot in front. A greasy man with a hooked nose and dark eyes looks her up and down. She can see his tongue slide in between his lips. Her revulsion doesn't matter to him.

Suddenly, a voice calls out in Greek. She can't understand, but the men exchange words, and she can pick out the tension in the greasy mans' shoulders, where the other man, a blond, seems cool and collected.

* * *

The body language of the man is telling me to come with him. I swallow and hesitantly follow. The men whistle and applaud, and I find myself shaking, terrified. The man and another one I hadn't noticed, tall, with skin a few shades lighter than mine and curly hair lead me back to their tent. The blond speaks a single word, that I still can't understand. I put my head down and follow.

When we reach a tent, the men enter and I do the same. The blond draws his knife and I jerk back. All I can see is the blood of my father. The red rust stains of my seven year old brother. His companion speaks a few words to him and takes the knife, while the other man backs away.

His... friend? Has a kind face. He speaks but my eyes are on the knife in his hand. What will they do to me? He startles, and I understand one word this time.

"No."

But in what context. I can't imagine what he might be saying.

In frustration he whirls around. _What is he doing?_

He grabs the other man by his tunic and pressed his mouth to his. I feel a dull thud of relief. Maybe they won't...

He lets him go, then gestures towards my bonds. He speaks.

I offer my hands.


End file.
